Another consequence

of the shutdown of the home ATM. Cheap chicken, however, will always be with us. 

Camera,

meet the world beyond the dinner table. 

MR. KRIST: Sharing a little of yourself is always the best way to go. If you're in a market, buy a little sample of what they're selling, try it, comment on it, and by the time that interchange is over they're smiling and ready when you bring your camera up. The last thing you want to do is try to sneak pictures, because you will get caught.

 

Lies, damn lies

and advertisements.

And the good news is

they had to reach back to August to find a significant closing to illustrate trouble in RestaurantLand. 

Compared with muddled butter

short & smart. History as lagniappe.

Curds

and bailouts. 

The first depression

with all-you-can-eat pancakes for $4.99. 

Finally

someone has figured out what the hell to do with mackerel.

But no Molto

magazine? 

Fool us once

shame on someone. At least this addresses the last pies in the sky. 

Nothing

is simple. But these did strike me as particularly bogus.

And I thought I was just cynical

in thinking the problem is an epidemic of greed. 

Holy

shit. When I first started writing for a newspaper as a sophomore in high school, I could never have imagined this. Great name for a wine shop: The Fifth Estate.

By tomatoes

possessed. (Very sloppy copy editing, though -- Restaurant "Danielle"?)

Worse

than I suspected: How the sausage is made at the WSJ is a little too transparent. 

New to me

and I spent time in Philadelphia. I grew up with an electric stove (after we graduated from a wood-burning one), though, so this must have been pretty insidious propaganda. Gas is better. 

Someone is working too hard

I myself get exhausted reading his exhaustive output in multiple outlets every week, but he's clearly fried. ("Delicious," by the way, is no help at all to the thinking drinker in the Chilean aisle.) As an intervention, might I suggest what a very smart friend wondered of me: "What is your brain like on battery?"

(Filched from Josh)